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I realized the longer it took her to protest, or even respond, reinforced the impression that we were, in fact, lovers."What are you saying?" she aske..., panicked. "I don't know what you're saying."Mom's hand returned to clasp the material in front of her pussy again. I watched as her body language expressed her desire to curl up, close off, cover up any impression that we were intimate. She looked really panicked. Mari rose to her feet and gently took Mom's shoulders in her hands, preventing. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and an tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you. More

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